the whole self-help scenario has never worked
well for me

I spent my days in
& out
of conscientiousness

forever fueled by what my heart
hungers for

& nothing on the table
is worth a
bite

my glass is not filled
with enough
drink
to ripen my anxious
tongue

my bed is a battlefield
of lost sleep
raised voices
& blurry dreams


I could dig myself to the
other side of the
Earth


& never feel any more
unclean